


No Feeling Like This

by classic



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: BDSM, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Face Slapping, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Love, M/M, Multi, joyfire - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 16:24:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classic/pseuds/classic
Summary: They'd seen Roy survive worse with nothing more than a grimace. That was just the job. But this was different. This was so much better. In the hands of those he adored and cared for. Kori took him out of his head and forced him to feel everything all at once. Everything he hoped to run from, only to be absolved, forgiven, loved. There was nothing to match this feeling.





	No Feeling Like This

Jason fits his key into the lock of his apartment and sighs as he lets himself into the home. He enters and turns to the door closing it as he toes out of his unlaced boots, he’ll deal with the mud later. He takes another moment to slip off his worn, brown leather jacket. He turns to the sparse living room and is relatively unsurprised to see Roy kneeling at Kori’s feet. Roy is staring up at her, ardor clear in his eyes. His position is obedient, not dutiful, he loves it. 

Her legs are splayed, his ears between her knees. Neither of them looks up when Jason comes in, both are so wrapped up in each other it is impossible to pay much attention to his intrusion. Jason hums a voiceless “hello” at them as he passes the couch into the kitchen to retrieve a beer. He hears rather than sees the sharp blow delivered to the side of Roy’s cheek. Roy gasps loud enough to be heard in the other room and then whispers a reverent, “Thank you.”

A private grin spreads across Jason’s face and he returns to the living room to join them. He steps over the seat of the couch and eases himself down next to Kori, his opened beer bottle in one hand. Before he has the chance to say anything, Kori hits Roy again. It’s harsh, but it’s nowhere near as hard as she hits criminals. She firmly applies her fingers, never her palm, to smack the fleshy part of his cheek, avoiding the jaw, ears, or neck. Still, it hurts, Jason can tell as Roy attempts to maintain control with each hit, shuddering with eyes fluttering. 

It’s a beautiful dance to watch. Kori is cool and calm as she metes out the punishment. She won’t say a single thing to either of them until its over. She just holds unwavering eye contact with Roy, considering him like a specimen beneath a microscope. To an outsider, it might seem distant and unloving, but the air is heady, and the scene is so extraordinarily intimate that Jason almost feels like he is encroaching. He usually slides in with them, like the key in the door, fits jagged metal piece to jagged metal piece perfectly like they were meant to be broken and uneven all along. But tonight, he’s simply a voyeur. 

Every few moments she rears back to deliver a healthy slap and each time Roy murmurs a quiet “thank you.” For his part, Roy is simply trying his damnedest not to ruin the whole thing by bawling. Tears keep welling in his eyes and some of them spill, but he doesn’t look away from her. She likes to make it harder for him. Sometimes she rubs, none-too-gently, into his rapidly bruising skin or rakes her nails down his cheek and pinches his quivering lips. 

Jason can hardly stand watching. He unbuttons his jeans, slips a hand inside and attempts to stave off his own orgasm by ringing his fingers around the base of his cock. When Kori finally breaks Roy, Jason has to bite his fist to keep from groaning. Roy slumps against her leg, falling to one thousand pieces that she’ll later pick back up and re-assemble for him. She considers tugging his hair, pulling him back up to his knees and making him sit there patiently, still sobbing, and take two more hits, just two more. Not as hard as the others, just glancing blows. But she can tell he’s already too far gone so she simply combs her fingers through his long hair. “You’re going to need to get a cut again soon, hm?” she muses, thinking back to them at the kitchen table, scissors in hand as she snipped the overgrowth, taking care of her boys as she always did. The question is rhetorical as it’s directed at Roy, but he can’t really understand her at the moment. He’s too overwhelmed, letting whole chunks of himself spill out onto the living room floor. 

Kori turns to look at Jason, a soft contented smile on her lips, fingers still intertwined in Roy’s hair. Jason tears his eyes away from Roy to meet Kori’s. Her icy stare from earlier has melted away into pure fondness. Jason’s pupils are blown, black and wide as saucers and he stares at Kori like she is goddess on earth. This is the best drug any of them know. Singes the nerves better than cocaine can and settles pleasure into the bones deeper than weed could ever manage. Kori is just as familiar with Jason’s needs as she is with her own, as she is with Roy’s. She leans down to cover the short distance between herself and Jason and barely touches her lips to his. The kiss could have been chaste, but she slips her tongue out and traces the bow of his upper lip. She doesn’t even make it to the other side before Jason shoots off, coming, shamefully, in his pants like a teenager. A sticky spot quickly pools in the fold of his denim. Kori sits back, delighted and utterly fulfilled. 

Roy is still attempting to pull himself back together. He is sniffling now, wetting the back of his hand by touching it to his nose and wiping gingerly at his bruised cheeks and the skin under his eyes. They both watch him for a long moment as he collects himself. They’ve seen him shot, stitched up, tortured, and beaten, taking all of it with a grimace. That was just the job. But this was different. It wasn’t the pain really. Sure, that was part of it. They all liked pain; they had to like it at least somewhat to do what they did day in and day out. Jason got off on it most, both giving and receiving, Kori liked the power, the control, and Roy…for him it was like having someone remove his brain from his skull, giving it a rough scrub and then placing it back in and hitting a reset button. He didn’t know what he would do without it. Maybe go back to injecting heroin into his veins or picking fights he knew he wouldn’t win. This was so much better. In the hands of those he adored and cared for. Being forced to feel everything all at once, everything he hoped to run from, only to be absolved, forgiven, loved. There was nothing to match this feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> It's just eight paragraphs of filth but I love this trio.


End file.
